


Trouble in Paradise

by grumpynymph



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Break Up, F/M, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, and also receive 7 voicemails from him every day for years, and sara bareilles' king of anything, and you're tired, in which john is a dumbass, its gonna be awk when u walk into that chapel, set way before Everything, this was inspired by the bachelorette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 04:04:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19287748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpynymph/pseuds/grumpynymph
Summary: You wonder how you managed to date this man for six months.





	Trouble in Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little self-indulgent thing I wrote up because you know a relationship with John would be rocky as hell. Please comment and let me know what you think / if you want more of these! Thinking about maybe doing a little something with Jacob too.

It was morning. You could tell by the golden light beginning to slide across the polished wood floor, peeking through white curtains that probably cost more than your monthly paycheck. You sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee that had long gone cold still cradled in your hands while he paced back and forth, back and forth, up and down the wide room. You looked outside.

Neither of you had slept any last night, too wrapped up in one fight after another, dragging skeletons out of the closet by the neck. If anyone lived close to seed ranch, you were sure there would have been noise complaints, all the more embarrassing for you as it would be _your_ coworkers showing up to address them.

John cleared his throat and you braced yourself, eyes snapping from the window to his unkempt form.

“I don’t understand-” he started and you sighed loudly, slumping in your chair. He glared. “ _I don’t understand_ where this is all coming from. You’re happy, aren’t you? You had fun at that rodeo you forced me to take you to, just last week,” he approached you, and you looked down at your coffee with an irritation that could boil. “Remember?” he smiled his sly little smile, tipping his head to get himself into your line of sight, kneeling in front of you. “You looked so good, dressed up for me in those boots, dancing to the beat..” his hands wandered towards your hips and you stood up, setting the mug down so suddenly it sloshed over the rim, splashing over the table below.

“Stop it- you are _not_ just gonna try and get into my pants after all that,” you were exasperated, hands rising to cover your face for a moment, dragging down. “Jesus Christ. Yeah, John, you don’t understand.”

“So explain to me why you’re ruining this!” he demanded, standing up to face you, all smooth flirtation gone as his temper returned. You bit back a smart comment about how you _had_ been explaining it, over and over and over. One of you had to have self-control.

“I need space, John!” you threw your hands up, palms facing the deer antler chandelier fixed to the ceiling. “I’ve told you that, but you don’t _listen_! This new promotion- it's hard. I’m not ready to be a junior deputy, alright? I need some room to work out all this crap, and you keep pushing me, and I just-” you shrugged, eyes wide, almost pleading him to get it through his thick skull. “I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m doing. I thought I knew about us, but I don’t know anymore.”

“Darling,” he took a step forward and you took a step back, making him sigh, some spark of irritation flitting across his face. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’m here for you.”

“But you’re not!” you protested, righteous indignation igniting once again as you struggled with your words. “You don’t listen to me, you just tell me what I want to hear and expect me to just get over it, okay? You treat my job like its a joke, or- or less important than yours but it's not, John. It's not, and I hate that you don’t get that.”

“Then quit! Leave the idiots of the county to do what they do,” he reached out to you, hands resting on your shoulders before they trailed up to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. There was a gentle look in his eyes- one you used to love, but now it only seemed false. A viper’s act. “If you’re worried about the money, you know I can support you. We can sell that dump of a house and you can live with me. You wouldn’t have to worry about a thing," he repeated, thumb stroking across your cheekbone. "Not anymore.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” you whispered, slapping his hands away. Your stare was angry and hurt, voice raising in volume. You couldn’t count the things wrong with what he just said, mind struggling to wrap around the goddamn entitlement. “There it is again! You don’t listen, not ever. It's hard, but I love my job- and maybe it's not a fuckin’ mansion, but I love my _dump of a house_ too. Jesus Christ, _Jesus Christ_ , John! You can’t just buy me like a piece of land, that’s not how this works,” you snatched your coat from where it was draped across the kitchen table chair, shaking your head as you put it on. “No, this isn’t going anywhere. _We’re_ not going anywhere. I’m leaving.”

“I won’t let you walk away like this,” he moved in front of you, blocking your path as you tried to pass him. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re tired, my dear. We can talk about this once you’ve slept. I’ll let you take my bed, how does that sound?” he reached for your hips again- to pull you flush against his chest like he knew you used to love, but your fist cracking across his jaw sent his head snapping to the side, hands thrown off course.

“Don’t fucking patronize me, Seed,” you said, shaking your hand out. _That_ had been a long time coming. The adrenaline paired with the sting against your knuckles felt good, better than you’d felt the last two months, wading through all the manipulation, the belittling gestures. You pushed past him, out towards the grand front entrance you had been in and out of hundreds of times, but he caught your wrist, making you jerk back towards the man you wanted more than anything to take a goddamn break from.

“This isn’t over,” his eyes held a mixture of fury and strange calmness that made fear stir in your chest, covered up by a thin layer of grit you had accumulated over all your years. Blood dribbled from the side of his mouth and his tongue swiped down to lick it up, gaze never leaving yours. “We’re made for each other, I know you feel it too. I won’t give up on you.” A few strands of his hair swung down into his face, freed from the pristine order it usually held. It gave him a crazed demeanor you had never seen before. Maybe you hadn’t known where to look.

“I don’t feel that,” you shook your head, no anger in your voice- honesty that made you wanna break down. “Not right now.” Another moment passed between you, an odd intensity you could almost taste, before he released your arm, stepping back with his confident swagger, hands slipping into his pockets.

“You won’t stay away long, darling!” he yelled at your back as you picked up your pace to get the hell out, pulling your bag from a black leather couch and slinging it across your shoulder. “I’ll wait for you. _That’s_ love!”

You flipped him off as you pulled the heavy front door shut behind you.


End file.
